Last Friday Night
by Mylee
Summary: Trixie and Jim find a memorable way to celebrate Trixie's belated twenty-first birthday.


**Last Friday Night**

Giggling happily, the girls burst through the door of the local bar, causing more than a few of the occupants inside to glance their way. It was nearing seven o'clock on a Friday evening. The bar wasn't in full bloom quite yet; would become much more happening later on. Now it was just the appetizer crowd, filled with young Manhattanites who were either celebrating the end of a long, arduous work week or were getting ready to party away the weekend. Trixie tossed a cheerful grin at Diana Lynch, who was taking her out for her first official drink, and led the way to a table off to the side. Turning legal a few days earlier, she had been hampered by finals and hadn't been able to partake in an official 'I've just turned twenty-one' sort of way. "Thanks for taking me out to celebrate, Di!"

"And there is so much to celebrate!" Di chirped out blithely as she plopped down on a stool. She leaned against the high table and sighed dramatically. "Finals are finally over. Summer is officially beginning. And you just turned twenty-one!"

"Finals are only over for us," Trixie corrected, her blue eyes sparkling at the thought of no more papers, tests or projects. At least, not until the fall semester. Since that was a few months away, she wasn't going to worry about it. Summer, spectacular summer, separated the semesters. Thank goodness. "Us girls are lucky. The Bob-White boys…yeah, not so much."

"That's what they get for going to different schools. They picked the likes of Columbia, NYU…and we did not." The girls were all at the same college. They roomed together too, living in the same building where the Wheelers stayed when they were in the city. The boys' schedules were different than the girls. The girls always seemed to start earlier and finish up earlier, much to the collected chagrin of the male Bob-Whites.

"Graduate schools for some of them, too," Trixie chimed in, thinking of the two oldest Bob-Whites who were slaving away in the upper academia echelon. With his busy schedule, they rarely saw her older brother. Brian was notoriously absent from any Bob-White get-togethers; legitimately so. Luckily for her, Jim was a little more accessible. She always treasured the time she was able to spend with him. When the waitress approached their table, she slipped out her id, proof that she was ready for her first legal alcoholic drink, and held it up with a cheerful smile.

Di gave the orders. "A non-alcoholic strawberry daiquiri for me. This one gets the loaded one." They giggled after the waitress headed back with their order, feeling more like high schoolers again instead of young women who'd just finished up their third year in college.

"Honey felt bad she wasn't able to come this evening," Di said as they waited for their drinks.

"I know. She told me she'd make it up to me. She didn't want to disappoint her parents." Trixie knew Honey would live up to her promise. She always did. When Honey's mother had asked her to attend a charity function with them to represent Matthew Wheeler's business, she couldn't say no, even if it meant missing out on a spur-of-the-moment birthday celebration.

"Did Jim go with her?" Di wondered as she slipped her cell phone out and laid it on the table. She'd been so wrapped up in studying for her finals that she hadn't paid attention to most of the conversations circling around her this past week.

Trixie shook her head, making her curls bounce with the movement. "Honey told me he didn't want to. You know he tries to avoid societal functions like that as if they were the plague." She took a sip of her daiquiri, not noticing much of a difference between a virgin one and a loaded one at first. She swirled her straw, took another sip, and decided that she liked it very much. Then she glanced up when she heard Di's excited gasp. "Di?"

"Look, Trix! It's Mart!" She stood up, wildly waving her hands through the air until she caught her boyfriend's eyes.

It wasn't just Mart. Trixie held her breath when she saw who came through the door after her brother. The handsome redhead waved in acknowledgement. Her smile widened. While nothing romantic had ever happened between them, Trixie's heart always skipped a little beat every time she saw him. And, when it was unexpected, it skipped even more, like it was doing right now.

"Mart!" Di exclaimed, hardly believing her eyes, as her boyfriend weaved his way towards her. After pressing a soft kiss to her lips, he took a seat next to her, his arm slipping around her slim shoulders. She fluffed her long black hair, hoping she looked as good as she felt. "What are you doing here? I thought you had a study group this evening."

He tossed a sheepish grin her way, a red flush staining his cheeks. "Well…apparently I didn't listen as well as I should have when my group was scheduling our meeting a few nights ago. I showed up at the campus library, looked around, and couldn't find any of my group mates inside. Turns out it's tomorrow night. Right place. Right time. Wrong day." He shook his head at his stupidity and gestured towards Jim. "So I came over here, ran into this familiar fellow outside and invited him in."

Jim took the open seat, right next to Trixie, his famous lopsided grin on his face, knowing there was just a wee bit more to the story than Mart was letting on. He touched her hand. "Happy belated birthday, Trix. Sorry we weren't able to get together for it."

With finals falling on and around her birthday, there hadn't been any way to celebrate, other than with phone calls or texts, much different than the birthday celebrations during their days when Sleepyside was her only address. Sometimes it sucked growing up. "Spending it writing short answer essays was not my idea of fun," she complained, her nose wrinkling in remembered distaste. For as long as she'd been in college, her birthday always fell during finals week.

"Only one more year," he reminded her, ignoring the lowly chuckling couple across the table. He didn't want to know where Mart's hands were…or why Di was laughing so breathlessly. They were quite a demonstrative couple. A few of the Bob-Whites had walked in on some rather interesting sights over the years since the two had started dating.

"Well, at least you were right. College is much more interesting than high school ever was." Much to her surprise, as well as her family's, Trixie excelled in college. As Jim had pointed out to her when she'd shared her nerves about starting college the summer before her freshman year, she was much more invested in the material. It was meaningful to her, unlike trigonometry or chemistry or a handful of other high school subjects. "One more year should be a breeze."

He nodded his head towards Mart and Di, who were involved in a whispered conversation with lots of touching and a few more kisses. Leaning across the table, Jim murmured near her ear, amused, "Do you think they remember we are here?'

She felt a few shivers course up and down from his low voice. Ignoring her body's response, she shook her head in the affirmative. Well used to the actions of the only Bob-White couple, she whispered back, laughing and perfectly at ease with him, "Oh, I am sure that they do. They simply don't care."

Mart lifted his head from Di's intoxicating lips. "I hate to admit it but my _twin_ sister is correct." He emphasized the word twin because, for the next few weeks, they were exactly the same age. Twins for exactly one month. Until his birthday on June 1, when he reverted back to being the elder. He reached across the table, tugged on a curl, just like he used to do when they were younger. "My fair lady and I are simply celebrating the fact that a very long week is over. Finally, finally, our prayers have been answered. We get to see each other again."

Di pulled back from her boyfriend, a little breathless, but not at all embarrassed. "Sorry. You know we haven't…ah…seen each other for awhile. Too much studying, finals, etc." Turning to Mart, she planted a big kiss on his mouth. "I'm just absolutely delighted you were able to come here tonight."

"Me, too." As soon as he realized he'd have the evening free, he'd thought of the perfect way to get Di to himself. One quick text to Jim and he'd been home free. He highly doubted if Trixie would be disappointed if he swapped out Di for Jim. She'd still get to celebrate and, well, he'd get to spend some much-needed time with his girlfriend. A win-win for all, in his mind. When the waitress came over to take Jim's order, he shook his head no, ready to flee from the bar and take Di somewhere private. "What do you say we find our own place? Away from prying eyes?"

"Oh!" Ready to agree, Di opened her mouth, closed it, and then glanced quickly from Jim to Trixie and back again. She wanted to say yes. She so wanted to say yes. Maybe….

"I wasn't planning on studying tonight, Di," Jim offered up quickly, not minding in the least. It wasn't a complete lie. He'd been working on a paper, not studying. He'd much rather keep Trixie company. It was the reason why he was there. "I'll keep an eye on the newly legal one here. Scout's honor. She'll be in good company."

Her violet eyes lit up with true delight. She loved her friend; she truly did, but the prospect of spending some unexpected time with her boyfriend was very, very tempting. Already standing up, she slipped her purse strap over her shoulder, her untouched drink on the table, ready to go. "Trixie? You don't mind?"

"Go," Trixie replied, shooing them away with her hands. It was beyond obvious who Di wanted to be with. She took another sip of her fruity concoction, enjoying the taste of the sweet liquid as it went down her belly. She gave a small shrug of her shoulder and declared with mock horror, "Although why you would want voluntarily choose to hang out with this brother of mine, I'll never know."

"Hey, little sis!" Mart gave her a small push, nearly sending her off the stool. A quick reaction from Jim saved her. "I resent that." Offering a two-fingered salute, he led his girlfriend away from the table, ecstatic to be able to spend the evening with her. An unexpected boon from fate.

Just like that, they were a table of two. Swirling around the pretty pink drink with her straw, she idly wondered when the last time it had just been her and Jim. It was so long ago that she couldn't bring up the last time. They'd always had a nice, firm, easy friendship between them. At one point she'd hoped for something more but, as the years had gone by, that something more had never materialized. She'd learned to live with it. His friendship was everything to her. But it still didn't stop her from giving him some long side glances, like she did right now. She caught his familiar face in profile. Gleeps, he was so handsome. Everything she'd ever dreamed of…when she allowed herself to.

Jim took a sip from the beer the waitress just deposited in front of him, unaware that she was covertly studying him over the smooth edge of her glass. Never much of a drinker, he couldn't resist the chance to celebrate with Trixie. "Hope you don't mind the switch out, Trix."

"Not at all." Her smile touched the blue of her eyes. She'd never turn down time with Jim. It didn't happen much, especially with the demands adulthood placed on them.

God, he loved her eyes. The warmth of them, the intelligence behind them. The effervescent quality they contained; such an inherent part of her. If he allowed himself to, he knew he could just about drown in them. Scooting his stool over, he pitched his voice low, "I'll let you in on a little secret. Mart didn't run into me. He sent me a text, asking me to meet him here. He didn't want to take Di from you and leave you alone."

"I wouldn't have stood in their way." And she wouldn't have. But they wouldn't have left her alone. Instead, they would have stayed with her. She wouldn't have wanted to watch them make kissy-faces at each other all evening long. Yeah, the swap had been a perfect solution.

"I know." He got to spend some time with her. He'd closed his laptop without a single regret and had rushed right over, beating Mart to the bar. "I'm sorry there couldn't be more of us here tonight."

"Honey couldn't make it this evening. She's at that function with your parents," she informed him, just in case he didn't know about it.

A pained look entered his eyes. Long, boring societal functions, be there dinners, dances, auctions, galas, or whatever, were not his cup of tea…or mug of beer, he corrected himself, with a glint of mischief to his emerald eyes as he raised his glass in the air. "My parents don't ask me much anymore. They know I'd rather be somewhere else."

Having heard stories about the events, both from Honey and a few times from Di, Trixie whole heartedly agreed with him. She wouldn't want to attend one, either. She held her glass up, clinked it against his. "It's not something I'd like to do."

"Hear, hear." Jim rolled his eyes, grateful he'd been spared going to the most recent function. His parents only asked him if it was really important. He didn't mind going so much.

"Shouldn't you be studying? I mean, aren't your finals coming up soon?" Trixie cocked her head to the side, curious.

Mart's text had changed his mind. He couldn't pass up the chance to hang out with her. He didn't tell her that, though. "Hey. I'm free tonight. And someone important has a birthday to celebrate. Tomorrow is another story."

Her cheeks pinkened. She realized what he was saying. He'd packed away his books to spend time with her. He'd probably pay for it tomorrow, too, with the course load that he had to carry this past semester. It was a beautiful present, by far the best one she'd received for her birthday. Time with Jim. She wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. "You know, tomorrow at this time I'll be back in Sleepyside. I can't wait!" Thoughts of Crabapple Farm flittered through mind, in the simple way the air flittered through the curtains of the charming farmhouse down in the hollow. Her heart gave a happy sigh.

"You always were the lucky one, Belden." He wrinkled his nose at her, trying to cut down on a little spear of jealousy. He'd love to be back in Sleepyside. "I won't be back for at least a week. Next Sunday at the earliest. God, I miss it. I miss the country so much."

"City life is nice but…" She didn't finish her sentence. It was something else they had in common. They both enjoyed the city and the many amenities it offered but, if push came to shove, they would much rather be in the country, with the freedom of space and the quiet of the air surrounding them. So much better for their spirits.

"You got it." He glanced up as more people started to come into the bar. Not as many suits now. The women were in sparkly dresses; the men watching them with interested gleams to their eyes. In another hour or so it would be packed, with the young Manhattanites either looking to get drunk or for a satisfying hook-up. He glanced down at his watch. "What do you say, Trix? We could stay here or we could head over to your apartment."

"Not mine," she disagreed instantly with a negative shake of her head, already standing up from the table, ready for the next adventure of the evening. She took one last sip of her drink. "I'm sure that's where Di and Mart went."

"Mine, then?" he suggested, tossing a few bills on the table, enough to cover their tab and with a lot left over for the tip.

"Sure." It sounded great. She hadn't been over there to visit in a long time. Jim usually stopped in at their place. "Dan told me yesterday that he has a hot date tonight. That's why I know that Di and Mart won't go there. Our apartment is totally free."

Laying a hand on the small of her back, he led her through the growing crowd and opened the door. A blast of warm spring air filtered in, a welcoming change to the air conditioning of the bar. "Brian's working at the hospital. He pulled the graveyard shift. He's not going to be back until tomorrow morning." Probably late tomorrow morning, maybe even closer to the afternoon. Interns kept untraditional hours at best. And Brian's hours seemed to be on an insane level.

"Yeah. I figured." Trixie followed him as they walked a few blocks to his apartment building. The streets were humming with activity, with lots of people ready to enjoy a Friday night in early May. When they reached Jim's apartment, she immediately stepped out of her boots and left them by the door. Her socks were next. She crossed through the small entry way on her cute bare feet and went into the living room. The boys' apartment…well, not exactly boys any longer, she thought with a speculative glance towards Jim…was definitely on the masculine side. A huge entertainment center took up the far wall, filled to the brim with two different game systems, game cases, movies, and even some board games. Since they'd been quiet on the walk over, she picked up the conversation and said, "Brian's schedule has been crazy. I can never keep it straight. I don't think I've seen him for a month. Maybe even longer than that."

"This past semester has been tough." Jim gave her his lopsided grin, grateful it was nearly over.

"And us girls are finished with our schooling for the year…" she bragged, her charming chuckles filling the air.

"And we are just starting our finals." Jim let out a low, resigned sigh. Really, he should be studying. His finals week was gearing up. His first one was on Monday. There were a few papers and projects for him to work on too. And, yet, here he was, spending a Friday evening with Trixie, all thanks to a hurried text from her almost twin. He refused to glance at his closed laptop, which was resting comfortably on the cushions of the sectional. He wasn't going to feel guilty for choosing to spend time with Trixie over completing school work. After all, there was more to life than school.

"Wanna drink?" Walking over to the refrigerator, he pulled out a can and looked at her over his shoulder, a small grin tugging at his lips. "I know it's not you preferred choice. It seems to me that you girls all prefer sissy drinks over our favored manly concoctions."

"Sissy drinks? Manly concoctions?" she sniffed in mock outrage, her laughter ringing through the apartment. "Besides, I don't have a preferred drink." But she caught the can he tossed her way. "So…what do you want to do?"

Jim was eyeing her over the rim of his own can. Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the hellish semester he was close to finishing out. Maybe it was just the spectacular surprise of spending the evening with her. Whatever it was, it was making him feel pretty damn great. And she looked pretty damn great, too. He drank her in, thinking she was much more intoxicating than the can of alcohol in his hands. Holy hell, it had been a long time since he'd had these thoughts about her. Normally he ruthlessly squashed them. For some reason, he couldn't dredge up the need to do it this evening. He noticed everything. The long curling hair that framed her overly expressive face. The beautiful blue of her eyes that sparkled when she smiled. The pretty light blue and black plaid shirt, shot through with silvery threads, that topped off the black leggings on her legs. And her bare feet, with unpainted toes peeping up at him. Clearing his throat, reluctantly pushing away the desire that sprang up out of nowhere, he suggested evenly, "How about a game night? Just you and me. Winner takes all."

"Game night!" she repeated with another giggle. Gleeps, it seemed that she was giggling a lot this evening. She put the can down on the table after another small sip, thinking maybe she should take it a little slower. After all, alcohol wasn't something she was all that familiar with. "All right. I can do a game night. We haven't done something like that in a long time. But I'm the birthday girl so I get to pick the game."

"Fair enough. So…pick your poison. What's it going to be?" Crossing over to the entertainment center, he pointed to a plethora of games for her to choose from, pathetically grateful to have his mind on something else besides how she looked this evening. "Anything look appealing?"

Why that innocent question should make her cheeks flame she didn't know. But one answer and only one answer came to her. Yes! There was some ONE who looked very appealing to her. Always had; always would. She covered a sharp gasp with a well-timed cough and called out the first game she saw. "Clue!"

He shouldn't have been surprised. It was a perfect choice, a perfect game for her. He swallowed an inner groan of disappointment, wishing he'd hidden the game beforehand. "You're not leaving me much of a chance here, Trix," he wheedled, hoping she'd change her mind. "You always kick our collective asses at Clue."

It was true. They both knew it. She was amazing at the board game. No one could beat her at it. No one. It had gotten to the point where none of the Bob-Whites would play it with her. Even Bobby and the Lynch boys refused to play the game with her any longer. "Hey," she protested, laughing. "I'm the birthday girl. And we get to play what _I_ want to play."

His head shot up. Hell, he'd like to play with her but he'd never been able to dredge up the courage to actually do it. Their friendship was way too important. He pushed back the tantalizing images dancing before his eyes and took a big swallow of his own beer. "I'll…ah… get the game."

They set it up on the kitchen table. Trixie chose her favored character, Mrs. Peacock, and sat down across from the Jim. It didn't surprise her when he picked out Mr. Green. She watched him sort the cards into three piles and then shuffle them. Then she settled down, ready to kick his ass at the game. The game went along exceedingly well for Trixie, who won the first three games.

Jim tossed the three cards down in disgust, after she again gave him the correct answer. "You win. Again," he declared dryly, noting the empty cans on the table. Two for him; one for her. He got up to replenish their stock. "Ready to take pity on me? Change games?" he suggested hopefully with a low chuckle, knowing she wouldn't want to. Not that he minded all that much. She was adorable to watch during the game; the intensity on her face, the way she focused on her game pad, her barely concealed excitement when she figured out the who, the with and the where of the game. He could still hope, though. "Maybe?"

"Not a chance." Her curls gave a lively bounce with the shake of her head. "Maybe we should up the stakes a little." Trixie grinned, flushed with triumph from her trio of wins. A little wicked idea glimmered. It was harmless…well, practically harmless. But no one would really be embarrassed. Plus it was only the two of them. And it wasn't like she'd never seen him in just swim trunks before. Speculating, she glanced over at him, imagining him in just his boxers…or briefs, whichever he wore. The thought made her giggle again as she accepted another can from him.

"I was really thinking we should get a new game." Jim shook his head, feeling doomed. His Mr. Green simply could not best her Mrs. Peacock. Never had, never will. It appeared to be a fact of life.

"Oh no. My birthday, remember? Plus I don't get to play Clue much at all. No one will play with me anymore. I am not turning down this golden opportunity." Could she do it? Suggest it? Dare she?

"Poor baby." He wasn't really that sympathetic to her but she did look endearing as she held the cool can against the side of her suddenly flushed cheek.

"Yeah. I say we stick with Clue. But…" She let it trail off, the idea becoming brighter and bolder and oh, so incredibly tantalizing. Yeah, she decided, she could suggest it. He'd have to be the one to agree to it…or veto it. Gleeps, she hoped he'd agree to it. If he took exception to it, she could always blame it on the alcohol.

"But…" he prodded her, grinning when she took a long, fortifying sip from her new can.

"Let's try something…new." She didn't mean to sound flirtatious, certainly had no clue that was how her voice sounded.

Something in her tone made Jim straighten up from the counter he'd been leaning against. Hell, she was lovely. Even slightly intoxicated, she was the still the sweetest, cutest, most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Suddenly all ears, he informed her, "I'm listening."

She could already see him. His bare chest, his bare legs. Most likely with a dark red flush on his face. Yeah, she could definitely do it. She wasn't going to lose. It was a fact of life. She was the master of the game. Feeling confident from her wins, she announced brightly, "Strip Clue! The loser has to take off whatever the winner tells them to."

His mouth fell open. Never would he have imagined this suggestion. Never. "Strip…Clue?" he repeated softly, his voice nearly breaking on the last word. Then he watched her closely. Much closer than she realized. She was thinking she'd have him practically undressed in no time, he realized with a blinding flash of insight. She most definitely would, if he played by the rules. It wouldn't be much of a contest. But…not if he had his way. One edge of his mouth curled up in a most dangerous way. He walked back to his spot at the table, a plan rapidly formulating.

She swatted a curl out of her face, frowned at it when it bounced back into view. Oh yeah. He was going down…or at least his clothes were. She giggled yet again, picturing the scene perfectly in her mind. It never occurred to her that he could actually win. "You in?"

Oh, was he ever in. He reached for the cards, started separating them into the three neat piles, his plan firmly in place. The stakes were much higher now and he wasn't going to miss a step. "Yeah, Trix. Why don't you go get some snacks for us? I'll get the cards ready." What he was planning on doing certainly wasn't honorable. In fact, it was about as far from honorable as he could get. But there was simply no way he was going to lose this time. No way in hell. When she had her back turned, he swiped a glance down at the three cards before he placed them in the little manila packet marked with a red Confidential on it, not feeling guilty in the least. She was oh so wrong. He wasn't the one going down. It was going to be her. He just couldn't make it seem…obvious. Even slightly intoxicated, she would catch on quickly.

Fifteen minutes later, Trixie gaped down at the cards in the center of the board, her mouth bowed open in a portrait of absolute shock. "How the hell…" she muttered, genuinely confused. She never lost a game. Never. It was inconceivable to her. She titled her head to the side, a frown settling on her face, and pondered how it had happened.

Enigmatic emerald green eyes met her astonished ones. How far she would let him go he didn't know but he was about to have some fun finding out. He wasn't going to lose, of that he was sure. Too much was at stake. Grinning widely, he pointed victoriously at her top. "Let's start with your shirt, shall we?"

The way he said it made her eyes slit. Confidently. As if he planned on having her remove more of her clothes before the night was through. She knew it was ridiculous because he sucked at Clue and it was _her_ game, damn it all. Scowling, she gave in with a small humph of annoyance, unbuttoned a few buttons and hastily pulled her shirt up and over her head, leaving her in black leggings and a black camisole. She eyed the nearly full can, pushed it off to the side, coming to the conclusion that drinking and playing was not a great idea. "I'll do better this time," she grumbled, vowing to stay focused completely on the game.

No, she wouldn't. But he didn't say so. He wasn't stupid. Without allowing her to take over the preparation, Jim quickly set up the cards, once again sneaking a quick peek at the answers. Committing the fictional crime to memory, he painted an innocent expression on his face and waited for the game to begin. "You can go first," he offered gallantly.

"Loser always gets to go first," she grumbled, frustrated with her defeat. Brushing back a wayward curl, she smoothed away a small frown of worry. The first game hadn't gone the way she thought it would. The second one would be better, she told herself, gearing up to play. It would be. It just had to be. She concentrated hard, pulling out all her tricks for the game, and yet...

"Miss Scarlet with the candlestick in the ballroom." Jim called out his answer, elated with his second victory. When Trixie glanced down at her cards, double checked her pad, and then glared at him, he picked up the manila envelope and pulled out the three cards, showing them to her one at a time.

She never lost Clue. Never! And now she'd lost two games in a row. Two! What the hell was going on? Perplexed, she slumped back against her chair, feeling as if a perpetual frown had taken up permanent residence on her face. She almost forgot that he'd won the right to request that she remove an article of clothing, an air of incredulity surrounding her at her second defeat.

"Ah, Trix?" He waited until she was looking at him again. Jim pointed at the tiny top she had on, not exactly sure what its name was. It wasn't a tank top. He knew that much. "Take off whatever the hell that shirt you're wearing is called."

"Camisole," she informed him, glowering at him. She hesitated a moment, stared up at the ceiling and complained, wondering if she could change his mind, "The honorable thing would be to tell me to take off my boots next."

"Trixie, you already took off your boots and your socks. They're over there, by the front door," he pointed out helpfully, glancing at the pair of footwear hanging out near the front door. "It was the first thing you did when you came in my apartment."

"You could count it," she suggested, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Stop that," he ordered her, chuckling lowly, amused at her attempt to sway him. "You know I'm not Dan. Batting your eyes is not going to work on me."

"Jim…" she wheedled again, wondering if whining could get him to give in. "You really could count it, you know."

"I could." He shrugged a shoulder, staring intently at her. Then he grinned at her. It was a grin she'd never seen him utilize before. Dark, dangerous. Almost…dishonorable. "But I don't want to."

She swore softly under her breath, well aware that she wasn't acting like a paragon of good sportsmanship right now. It had been her idea to play the game this way after all, but she'd never, ever, expected to be on the losing end. She'd figured she would have been the one ordering him about and he'd be the one shedding clothes. It sucked being the loser.

"Plus you don't _have_ to do it. We can stop playing. Any time you like." He said it so reasonably, like it was perfectly okay for them to stop and he wouldn't think anything of it. He continued on it that same reasonable voice, "Maybe we could watch a movie instead."

Her eyes snapped to his. She'd heard the slight challenge hidden in his voice. It was unmistakable. She'd be damned before she gave in. Growling at him, ignoring his sharp burst of delighted masculine laughter, her fingers gripped the edge of her camisole, pulling it up and over her head. She tossed it angrily over her shoulder. It landed on the counter. "There. Happy now?"

All thoughts of laughter died out abruptly. He sucked in an audible breath. She was left in a bra. An emerald green bra. Oh, God. Why did it have to be green? It was like she had chosen to mark herself as his. He'd seen her in bikinis before. Tons of times. The amount of skin showing wasn't that much different. But the bra was satiny, combined with lace. So delicate on someone who he knew wasn't delicate at all. Plus her breasts seemed to be straining against the flimsy material, as if they didn't want to be confined any longer. His hands itched, wanting badly to free them. The game suddenly took on a new meaning to him. All or nothing now, he thought with a decadent gleam to his eyes, knowing what he would suggest once he won the next round. And he would win it. In record time, too.

She pushed the half-finished beer as far away from her as she could, wanting to keep all her wits about her. This time, she told herself, she was not going to lose. And yet, when Jim made his guess only three turns into the game and the cards matched for a third time, Trixie went completely and totally still. He wouldn't…

Oh, yes, he would. There wasn't much honorable left in him. Not much at all. It had fled the second he'd seen her in her bra. With the object of his affections half undressed across the table from him and no interruptions forthcoming, he finally, finally said what he'd been dreaming of for years. "Take off your bra, Trix."

"Bra?" burst out of her, her face falling open in a comical display of pure and utter shock. "Come on, Jim," she protested weakly, pointing down to her legs. "I still have my leggings on."

"Bra," he repeated, staring intently at her, wondering if she would do it. She'd never backed down from a challenge before; never gave in, never wanted to admit defeat. But this was different. Intimate. The upper half of her would be on display before him. Naked. He couldn't tamp down on the arousal that started building within. Would she do it? He thought he'd die if she didn't.

"Fine," Trixie huffed out after a minute, furious with herself for losing, and willing to do her penance. She stood up, glaring at him. The fulminating look she sent him should have reduced him to ashes. She wasn't going down without a fight, though. With a defiant toss of her curls, she ordered him, changing the rules just a little bit, "But you've got to take it off."

Her words trapped him. Surprised by her ingenuity, astonished that she had the audacity to put him on the spot right after he'd put her on the spot, he stood up from his chair and slowly circled the table, his heart pounding out a rapid tattoo in his chest. His fingers were shaking. The combination of nerves and anticipation rode him hard. His voice was a low rumble. "Sounds fair."

Oh, woe. Her eyes grew wide. She hadn't expected him to agree to it, let alone approach her. What the hell was going to happen now? She bumped into the table, unknowingly causing a few tokens from the game to fall to the floor and his half-full can to spill, leaving a puddle of beer on the game board. He came closer and closer. All right, she decided, holding onto her defiance the way one would hold onto a tattered cloak. Desperately. She clung to the edge of the table with nervous hands. "Yeah, Frayne, you want the bra off; you take it off," she declared with a bravado she didn't quite feel. "It opens in the front."

He'd already figured that out. Coming to a stop in front of her, hardly daring to believe that she was inviting him to take her bra off, he hoped to find shelter in what should have been a deep, calming breath. It was anything but that. Time seemed to stand still. It was just the two of them. Only the two of them. Wanting to see how far he could push it and if she would really let him take her bra off, he reached out tentatively, his fingers skimming the soft satiny side of each breast.

Before she could prevent it, a low moan was torn out of her from his touch. My God, oh my God, it was everything she'd ever dreamed of. His touch. It felt so damn good, like every single dream she'd ever had was coming true, right before her very eyes. Her earlier frustrations faded away into nothingness, to be replaced with some more delightful feelings. She tilted her head backwards, placing her hands on the back of the table, unconsciously pushing her breasts upwards and towards his questing hands.

Taking the moan as a sign of encouragement, wondering what would happen next, he slowly rubbed his thumb over the silky soft satin, working his way towards the center of each breast. When she didn't protest, only pushed her breasts even further into his touch, he got more adventurous and slowly circled her nipples, watching her beautifully expressive face the entire time. What he saw awed him. The game was definitely over. In fact, he had a strong suspicion that they were both going to be winners before it was all done.

Sensations were pouring over and round her, all starting from his point of contact. Warmth. Desire. Yearning. All rampaging through her, making her need more and want more. Right now. Everything she'd ever wanted; everything she'd ever dreamed of. The game and her annoyance over losing were long forgotten. She didn't give a damn about it any longer. She just wanted…"More."

He listened to her. Holy hell, did he ever listen. He slipped a hand around her waist, brought her closer to him, while he continued to tempt and taunt her breast with his other hand, causing her nipple to pucker and a delicious ache to course through her. Bringing his head closer, he tasted the soft, exposed skin above her bra, pressing a series of gentle, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive area.

" Gleeps!" she exclaimed faintly, delighted at the new experience, hardly daring to believe that Jim Frayne was kissing first one breast, and then the other, with such infinite care. Then his lips left, blazing a trail upwards, going along her chest, then the ridge of her collar bone, leading to the sweet hollow of her neck, along the line of her jaw…

And found sweet, blessed refuge in her mouth. He'd kissed a few women in his life. But none of them had ever felt like this. Pure heaven. He didn't waste a single second, let his tongue find shelter within her welcoming mouth, and was rewarded by an immediate war. Just as he'd known all along, his Trixie wasn't one to be passive, to sit back and merely enjoy. She gave back as well as she received, so much so that his breath was coming in rapid pants and his heart was pounding out at an erratic rate.

Needing some air, Trixie drew back, her eyes dazed, her chest rising and falling, and her skin becomingly flushed. She looked Jim in the eyes, recognized the same desire within the depths of his that had to be reflected within hers. "My bra," she reminded him, her voice soft, low and very, very raspy. So unlike her normal self.

"What about it?" he murmured into her ear, his warm breath causing her to tremble and the need for him to intensify.

"It's still on." Her meaning was as clear as crystal.

"So it is." He smiled against her forehead. Taking a deep breath, hardly daring to believe that not only was he kissing Trixie Belden, he was now about to disrobe her, he flicked open the front catch. Beautiful breasts, with nipples touched with the prettiest rose color, spilled out into his waiting hands. He zeroed in immediately on one, plumping it up and sampling it in the most delicious and decadent way possible, with lips, tongue and gentle, tugging teeth.

"Gleeps," slipped out past her bowed lips, a soft murmur that spurred him on even more. Her arms wound their way around his back, holding him to her as tightly as she could. As he exchanged one breast for another, she pressed a series of kisses against his forehead. It was like a dam had broken within her. She never wanted it to stop. Never. Being Trixie, she told him so in no uncertain terms. "Whatever you do, don't stop. Just…keep…doing…this. Oh. Jim. Please."

All inhibitions were a thing of the past. She was finally in his arms, something he'd only fantasized about for as long as he'd known her. He could hardly believe it, could hardly fathom that it was really happening. But with each soft purr of encouragement from her, with each touch and taste, he was ready to throw caution to the wind and live in the now. Truth be told, he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to leave the now. Ever. Not if it included her, him, and a ton of naked skin.

She loved, loved, loved the feel of him pressed against her, his mouth on her skin, his breath against her heart. Desperate for more, she scooted to the edge of the table. Another beer can slipped off the edge of the table, spilling its contents on the floor. The board game box was next, as well as a few of the cards. Neither noticed or cared about the mess they were creating.

Gasping, he lifted his head, his eyes the darkest emerald they had ever been. "Trixie," he kept murmuring her name again and again, almost as if he had to say her name to believe she was really in his arms, before he started kissing her again. His hands settled down on her waist. He brought her forward…just enough so that a very important of him collided with a very sensitive part of her, showing her exactly how much he wanted her.

A sharp gasp was ripped from her. Slightly shocked eyes met his. Gulping in great gasps of air, she dropped her head against his chest and declared, "Like I said, don't stop."

It was the green light he needed to proceed. He let go long enough to tug his shirt out of his jeans. With one swell swoop, it was on the floor, forgotten at their feet. Trixie's eyes widened at the sight before her. All that masculine skin, with such hard muscles underneath. Reaching out, she fanned her hands out over his chest, enjoying the feel of his skin under her hands. Never, and she knew this to be true, had she ever been able to touch him like this. Sure there'd been slippery, summery fun in the Wheeler lake or in a pool on one of their many shared vacations before but there had never, ever been any contact like this before between them. Where she had the right to touch and taste him, to her little heart's content. Hell, she relished it, hoped it would never, ever stop.

Now he had an inkling of what she'd experienced when he'd been inspecting her for the first time. Watching her smaller hands on his chest, feeling her explore him with such an intense look of satisfaction, only added more fuel to an extremely flammable fire. When she leaned forward, pressed her soft, sweet lips to his skin, leaving a line of wet, open-mouthed kisses, he thought he would explode; the pleasure was that intense.

Oh my goodness, it was better than she ever imagined it to be. He let her explore him for a good long while. Until he couldn't stand it any longer. Rasping for breath, he gently framed her face, tilted her head up. Their eyes met and held. Her beautiful blue to his gorgeous green. The color may have been different but the expression in each was the same. Desire. So strong. So overwhelming. And ready to take over both of them with the undeniable force of a tidal wave. It couldn't be stopped. They were well past the caring about the aftermath, about what it would mean to their friendship. That would be for later, much later. It was all about the now.

He needed everything from her. Right at this very moment. And he needed it all. He tugged her forward. The feeling of her naked chest against his was nearly too much. He wanted more, wanted it all, wanted it forever. From her. Only from her. Threading a hand through her long curls, he entangled her in another series of mind blowing, toe curling, nearly explosive kisses. Leaning down, he finished with, his voice sandpaper rough with need, "It's going to be here, Trix, if we don't slow down."

She'd already figured out as much. It didn't matter to her, not really. As long as it was him, she didn't particularly care about the where. Only about the when. "I bet your bed is much softer than the table," she whispered into his neck, blowing on a super sensitive spot, and running a short stubby finger nail down his chest.

He shivered. He actually shivered. No woman had ever made him shiver before. Damn, but she was lethal to his senses, to his control. Not that he should be surprised. Trixie had always possessed an uncanny ability to make him feel things to the extreme. Lifting her off the table, allowing their centers to line up perfectly once again, he reluctantly set her on the floor, his hands going as low as they'd ever gone on her before. His next words thrilled her. "We'd better go now or I'm not going to care where we are."

"I already don't care." Low, delighted giggles filled the air. Standing on her tiptoes, she pulled him down for another series of long, leisurely kisses. Pleased that she was able to set the pace this time, she gradually deepened them until their tongues were dueling and both of them were gasping for breath.

"I can still lay you back down on that table," he muttered, struggling to regain his breath and what was left of his shattered control. Apparently she could destroy it with exceptional ease. "Or the floor."

She laughed again, so damn happy. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him towards her, well aware of where his room was. After all, this wasn't her first visit to his apartment. Or even his room. She'd been in there before. She'd even helped him move in, so many years ago. But it certainly was her first visit to his bed. And, if she had her say, there would be many, many more visits to come. "Let's go, then, Jim. I can't wait much longer. And we both know how impatient I can be."

Did he ever. Good Lord, did he ever. He wrapped his fingers around hers. They'd held hands so much time in their past. It had never felt like this though. He held on tightly and pulled her forward. It wasn't the most graceful trek to his bedroom. How could it be, when they weren't exactly focused on their path? He couldn't stop touching her. She wouldn't stop kissing him. Stumbles happened; a tumble was nearly avoided when he caught the edge of the wall. Making use of the helpful wall, he pinned her up against it, let loose with a long series of hot, hungry kisses that nearly undid him and her. He pulled away, resting his head against the coolness of the wall, gulping in some air.

Trixie used a much needed break to lean back. Slipping her fingers into her leggings, she slowly pulled them down and stepped out them. All that remained on her were the matching green panties, the pair that matched the bra. Large hands immediately landed on each curvaceous hip. He traced the edge of the lace with each thumb, along her toned stomach and then along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

She dropped her head back, giving him an excellent view of her neck. Never one to waste a golden opportunity, he leaned forward, took her neck again. These kisses weren't nearly as gentle as the first set had been. He was getting desperate. His teeth scrapped along the edge of her collar bone. He nibbled here and there, blowing lightly on the exposed skin, causing a cavalcade of shivers to burst through her, one set right after the other.

"I can't believe this happening." She hadn't meant to say the words out loud, had only meant to think them, but all inhabitations seemed to be slipping away, far far away.

"Me, neither," he replied, his voice thick with unshed need for her. He lifted her leg, hooked it around his waist, and nearly groaned from the pleasure of having his body lined up perfectly with hers.

There couldn't be any doubt that he wanted her. His touch, his eyes, and his body gave him away, in much the same way that her body was giving away her desire for him, too. "I've wanted it for so long," she whispered truthfully before his lips claimed hers.

He was kissing her again. He heard her words, would remember them later, but now, now, there was something much more delightful to focus on than mere words. His hips started a rhythmic movement but he reluctantly stopped, even after a throaty moan of disappointment from her. He didn't want their first time together to be up against the wall. She deserved much better. And he was damn well close to doing just that that. He tenderly traced her cheek bone with the back of his fingers, hoping she'd understand. "We're so close to my room, Trix. So close."

She did understand. Somehow they managed to make it to his room. He didn't flick on the light switch, not wanting a manufactured light for their first time together. No, the lovely silvery blue light of the moon streaming in through his windows offered the perfect lighting for them. He let go of her long enough to shed his own jeans. He wasn't nearly as graceful as she had been a few minutes earlier. She laughed a little when she noticed he was a boxers man at heart. Then they were near his bed and she was being pressed against the softness of his comforter. He followed her down, inch by delicious inch, his entire length matching up beautifully with hers. Looking down into her eyes, the eyes he knew as well as his own, he traced the soft skin of her cheek with the backs of his fingers and stated the naked truth, "We can't turn back now, Trix. It's way too late."

"Gleeps, no. Don't even think it, Jim. I think I'd die if we stopped." It wasn't even a consideration for her. A leg wrapped around his, pulling him even closer to her. Only two layers of clothing separated them…and she could feel how much he wanted her through his.

"Me, too," he agreed hoarsely. Although his body was demanding release, and release right now, he started over again, letting her know how much he desired her. Soft, lazy kisses. Gentle tugs. Strategically placed puffs of breath. All designed to simply drive her crazy, to make her yearn, to want him as much as he wanted her.

Gleeps, was he ever doing a damn fine job at it. Not that it should have surprised her. Anything Jim did, he did astonishingly well and then some. Of course he would be an amazing lover. It was better with him than she'd ever dreamed possible. She pulled his head back up for a long, stoking kind of a kiss, the kind where she hoped there'd be more of the action that he was promising her.

With their breaths mingling and their tongues dueling, he slipped one finger in the edge of her panties, sliding them ever so slowly down her legs, touching her soft, silky skin the entire way. Pressing one last kiss to her lips, he began a slow trail down, stopping to give each part of her body the proper attention. He spent a long time at her breasts, the first part of her that he'd ever kissed in any sort of a sexual way. When he finally reached her center, he explored her thoroughly. First with his fingers, then with his mouth. The heat of her was beyond amazing; as was the welcome he found there. It was like she was made to call him home.

It didn't take long. Not with how ready she was. Trixie couldn't hold back. She wanted to, she wanted to keep a hold of the feelings he was creating within her, as he molded her into something she had never expected to become. She wanted to memorize them, to bottle them up, to always have them with her but…she simply could not hold back. That damn impatient streak within her wouldn't let her. Not when he was so expertly demanding that she let go, and that she let go now. Right at this very minute. His name was both a hoarse cry and a beloved benediction, falling from her lips and echoing off the walls in his room.

The trail back up was much quicker, with him planting little kisses here and there. His own breath came in deep, ragged pants, a testament to the strongest desire he'd ever have the pleasure of experiencing. He took her mouth in a series of sweetly soft kisses this time, holding back his own need as best he could. All the while he told her incredible she was to him. His words were meant to soothe and to prove how much she meant to him, especially after the magnificent experience they'd just had together.

Through all this, he shed his boxers, preparing for the final culmination of their unexpected evening together. He only stopped long enough to protect her. When he knew that she was ready again, he entered her and went slowly at first, experimentally, because he needed to learn her all over again with a very different part of his body. She'd more than thoroughly enjoyed his ministrations from a few minutes earlier but nothing, nothing could compare to how she was feeling now. Blue eyes popped wide open, met the emerald gaze of pure concentration above hers. Even through the dim moonlight she could see him rising above her, could see the effort he was exuding to move slowly, carefully, tenderly. All designed to make it as good as possible for her. An edge of her lip curved upwards. Yeah, it was sweet but she was having none of that. Not yet. Maybe next time. After she arched her hips upwards, welcoming him into her fully, she demanded firmly, her voice a sexy whisper and so unlike her usual one, "More. Gleeps, Jim, I need more. Like, right now."

As simple as that, she broke his resolve to go slow and easy. It was like a storm had been set free. His movements were fast, fluid, and extremely gratifying, with the two of the commencing in the most pleasurable of dances, where they truly felt as if they had been fused into one individual. This time, when the feelings overtook her again, when she couldn't hold back any longer and it felt as if her body had set itself free, Trixie held onto him tightly and breathed his name against his chest.

Her quietly whispered word, his name, placed right above his heart, made him go over the edge. Breathing heavily, he collapsed on top of her, a feeling of peacefulness washing over him. Never had he felt like this. Never. So whole. So sated. So complete. And it was all because of her. Touching his forehead to hers, he gently tugged on his curl, watching with fascination as it sprang back to its spot. "Damn, Trix. You nearly killed me."

"I was just going to say the same to you." She burrowed against his pillow, her eyes closed and a secret smile of pure happiness on her lips. Not surprising but the pillow smelled of him. So delicious. "You are really good at this, Jim."

"Thanks. I aim to please." He reached out, tickled a giggle out of her before she snuggled against him and not the pillow. Reaching down, he snagged an edge of the comforter, tucking it around their naked bodies. Then he pulled her closer. Even though the love making was over, at least for the time period, he needed her as close as he could get her.

"So damn good." She let out a quiet murmur. Her lashes were fanned becomingly on her satisfied sigh. It felt like her body was still humming from him. Weightless, like a feather in the wind.

He couldn't stop touching her. Even now. Even after he'd tasted her, steeped himself in her, been one with her. Even now that he knew what her face looked like when she attained the highest plateau of pleasure available. Oh, God. Even now. He touched every available spot he could get, knowing, just knowing, that this wouldn't be the only time he'd have her tonight. There'd be more. There had to be. He'd wanted her for so long. One time wouldn't be enough; would never be enough. "You are the one." He kissed her cheek, blew a little in her ear before he added, "Who is so damn good."

Feeling drowsy, she let out a small breath of air, loving how warm he was and the feel of his arms around her. She felt so soft, so protected…so…loved. Her breath caught in her throat before she relaxed against him again. It was a feeling to experience now but to be reflected on later. She didn't want to think now. She only wanted to feel…and sleep. She really needed a nap. She stretched a lazy arm, murmured softly, "Hmmm. You tired me out, Frayne."

"Get some rest, Belden. You're going to need it." Chuckling softly, he gently tangled a hand in her curls, enjoying the silky soft feel of them, and watched her. He was tired but he couldn't pass up the opportunity to watch her while she slept. He would never be able to forget how she looked on his pillow, her blonde curls spread out, or the weight of her pressed against him. Strip Clue, indeed. It seemed they'd both won tonight.

"Mmm'kay." She hummed a little breath and, in the time it took him to trace a series of hearts on her naked back, fell into a light, freshening doze. Thoughts of what would happen next between them were far, far away. The feelings were too new, too unexpected, too…everything. She never considered what would happen now; when this Friday night turned into last Friday night.


End file.
